


On Shore Remain

by martinvaughn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Post-Season/Series 08 Finale, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martinvaughn/pseuds/martinvaughn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's life or death. As long as Lucifer is still adapting to a human lifestyle, he is vulnerable. A wrong step could leave him bleeding out on the very ground that he could once influence lightning to strike. Lucifer is human now, as much as it pains him to admit. No longer immune to the elements or physical pain the way he was before he was popped out of the Cage by Metatron's spell. He's even heard from Dean that the food meant to sustain him could choke him to death if he eats it too fast. Lucifer refuses to believe anything the older Winchester says without solid proof, but the irony doesn't escape him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Shore Remain

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this to tumblr but deleted it for personal reasons. Now that I've finally got my own AO3 account, I can upload it here.

Sam insists that this is important.

It's life or death. As long as Lucifer is still adapting to a human lifestyle, he is vulnerable. A wrong step could leave him bleeding out on the very ground that he could once influence lightning to strike. Lucifer is human now, as much as it pains him to admit. No longer immune to the elements or physical pain the way he was before he was popped out of the Cage by Metatron's spell. He's even heard from Dean that the food meant to sustain him could choke him to death if he eats it too fast. Lucifer refuses to believe anything the older Winchester says without solid proof, but the irony doesn't escape him.

But just because he agrees that dying wouldn't be a good idea absolutely does not mean that Lucifer wants to do this. He's only here because Sam asked, and even now he can't bring himself to say no to the boy. There's a certain magnetism to him, and Lucifer promised Sam the world, didn't he? It's hardly an obligation to say yes to everything Sam asks; not when it fills him with so much joy. (The angel is entirely convinced that the emotion is somehow linked to the way Sam's eyes widen when he wants something, but the theory has yet to be proven.)

Then again, Lucifer is standing on the bank of a river in nothing but a pair of swim trunks. Maybe Sam did have that kind of power over him after all.

A large hand swallows his own whole, and it's only then that Lucifer realizes that he's shaking. Sam leans down, presses his forehead against his angel's. "You don't have to be nervous."

Lucifer closes his eyes. He knows he has no reason. The same way Lucifer vowed to protect Sam all those years ago, Sam has made it his mission to make sure nothing ever happens to him. He's safe. He's loved. Nothing could possibly go wrong so long as Sam is there to help steady his breathing.

Squeezing Sam's hand, Lucifer nods, and suddenly he's being pulled into the lake. He hisses as the icy water reaches the backs of his knees, the sensation so much unlike the hellfire he'd grown accustomed to. His Grace had adjusted while he was in the Cage, burning cold against the flames, but even then he wasn't strong enough to truly hold them back. After several millennia, Lucifer had learned to tolerate the heat. The cold is still a shock to him sometimes.

"Luce, come on," Sam urges, tugging the angel's hand and drawing him out of his thoughts.

The water is starting to reach Lucifer's shoulders, and oxygen just can't seem to filter into his lungs fast enough. His eyes snap open once he feels his body starting to lift off the ground and backs up, nails digging into Sam's knuckles when he can feel himself being pulled back. "What's happening?"

Sam's hand is cupping Lucifer's rear, holding him up now because his feet can no longer reach the bottom of the lake without submerging him completely. Lucifer feels lighter than he ever has in his time as a human, and he can feel his lips twitch upwards to match the expression on Sam's face in front of him. Except Sam has a glint of something in his eye; a warmth that fills Lucifer's chest and spreads despite the cold. Adoration.

"You're floating, Lucifer."

The former angel frowns. He hasn't floated since he lost his wings, his home, his everything. The only thing Lucifer has left is Sam. "That is a cruel joke, Samuel."

Sam laughs, full-bellied and it ripples the water around him. The hand Sam had holding Lucifer up is dropped in favor of clutching his stomach, and suddenly Lucifer is drowning, flailing his limbs and gasping for air until he finally steadies himself. Sam doesn't look the least bit worried. If anything, he looks proud. Lucifer glares at him, his arms and legs still moving in the water as that seems to be the only way to keep from sinking.

"See, you're floating," Sam gestures at Lucifer's arms, grinning wide. "You're kicking and moving your arms. Your head is still above water. You're still alive. You're floating."

Oh.

Lucifer looks down at his body, at the way he's fighting gravity with just his simple human body. No magic, no powers, just. Floating.

He beams back at Sam, except Sam isn't there, and that's an issue. Sam needs to be here. Sam needs to protect him in case something goes wrong. Sam needs to make sure nothing goes wrong to begin with. Lucifer panics, using the momentum in his arms to turn around in the water. Where could Sam have gone? What if something had happened to him while Lucifer was distracted? How would Lucifer live with himself after something like --

Sam emerges from the water with a gasp, shaking his hair out. Wet strands slap and stick to his face, and he laughs again at the no doubt distressed look on Lucifer's face. He's much farther away than he was ten seconds ago, closer to shore. Sensing his nerves, he holds an arm out to Lucifer. "Come here."

"I can't!" Lucifer doesn't bother trying to hide his whines anymore. Even the most simple parts of the human experience baffle the angel, and Sam's tendency to mock him about it frustrate him beyond the point of caring. He's just barely grasped the concept of floating. There is no way in Heaven or Hell that Sam could possibly expect Lucifer to swim all the way out to him. He shoots a helpless look at the hunter and tries his best to pout the way Castiel told him would work best. If Sam can manipulate people with a look, Lucifer is determined to do the same.

The way Sam raises an eyebrow at Lucifer suggests that perhaps he hasn't gotten it right. He frowns instead.

"Help," Lucifer pleads, arm momentarily leaving the water to grope the air in front of him.

With a roll of his eyes, Sam ducks his head back into the water. Lucifer watches the way his arms move in a circular motion, the way his feet flutter in alternating directions - up, down, up, down - until he comes to a stop. When he resurfaces, he's closer, but still out of Lucifer's reach. "I'm not coming any closer, Lucifer. You need to do this."

If he still had his power, and if this wasn't Sam, Lucifer would probably have smote the bastard human that dared to give him orders. But he has no powers anymore. Sam is all he has, and Sam is too far to hold onto. It feels wrong and the water is too cold without Sam radiating body heat beside him. Lucifer wants nothing more than to swim, to be next to Sam and forget this feeling of helplessness. He bites his lip and stares at his human, begging to be saved. From the lake, from his insecurity, from his humanity.

Sam nods, twitches the fingers of his outstretched hand, and Lucifer's own fingers ache to curl around them. Somewhere beyond his thoughts the angel can hear Sam's voice, "Stop doubting yourself, Luce. You've got this."

And if Sam believes it, then it has to be true. Sam would never lie to him, right?

A deep breath, and Lucifer plunges himself into the lake, trying to remember Sam's form. Arms out, up and over, scoop down and repeat. Legs together, feet kicking. Repeat, repeat, repeat. It's an entirely different sensation than he expected. The water feels warmer below the surface, and he feels weightless when a single stroke of his arm sends him gliding a few yards forward. It's exhilarating. It feels like flying. Oh, how he misses flying.

It ends too quickly, though, when Lucifer's lungs constrict and he scrambles to the surface, eyes screwed shut. Lucifer spreads his arms to try and float again, only to realize he's being held up by something. Someone. He opens his eyes and there's Sam. Holding him tightly against his chest, pressing their foreheads together and brushing Lucifer's lips with his own. Lucifer is safe. He's safe and sound and Sam doesn't seem to have any intention of ever letting go of him.

"I told you that you could do it," Sam whispers.

Lucifer can only nod, pressing his face into the hunter's neck. Sam is all he has. Sam believes in him. The influence of emotion over reaction in humans will never cease to amaze Lucifer. At least he can use his dripping hair as an excuse, if the sniffling doesn't give him away. He can feel himself being carried, away from the water and back to shore. The mid-summer breeze against his wet skin is strange, but not unwelcome. Lucifer looks up at Sam when he's placed back on solid ground beside the Impala, grabbing a towel from where it lay on the hood of the car.

"Thank you," he says, not breaking eye contact with Sam even as he runs the towel over his head in a poor attempt at drying his hair.

Sam stares, and Lucifer blinks at him.

"Thank you," he tries again. "For helping me."

The taller man quirks a brow. "Seriously, dude? You did that on your own. I didn't do shit."

Lucifer shakes his head. "No. For everything."

"Oh."

Lucifer nods to end the conversation, tossing a set of clothing from the backseat to Sam. They get dressed in comfortable silence and pile into the car, Lucifer immediately set on fiddling with the stereo. When he finds a station he likes - 70s rock, it's all he knows, living with Dean - he turns to nod at Sam, who starts driving. With one hand on the wheel, Sam places his other on Lucifer's knee and whistles along to radio. Like this, it's almost easy for Lucifer to forget that they aren't normal humans. He almost forgets that he once hated humanity with every fiber of his being, that for a short time he had possessed Sam, who hunts supernatural beings for a living. The scenario sounds so ridiculous, even to him, that for a moment Lucifer wonders what normal humans act like. Certainly normal humans don't have to be taught how to be a part of society. They are born into it, not thrown in from the deep end like fallen angels. They don't have to go through an entire ordeal to learn how to swim.

"Sam?" Lucifer breaks the silence between them. Sam's hand tightens.

"Yeah?"

"Please never try to take me swimming again."

Lucifer hears a snort, and the pressure on his knee is gone. "Sure, no problem."

Sam doesn't seem at all surprised when Lucifer begs him to go back to the lake every day for a month.


End file.
